


Learning from the best.

by Sierra_The_Unicorn



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal, Blowjobs, Denial, Dorne, F/M, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, Innocence, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Role Reversal, Roleplay, Teasing, Threesome - F/M/M, Virginity, learning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1671920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sierra_The_Unicorn/pseuds/Sierra_The_Unicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jon Snow recieves a chance to go to Dorne and spend time with the Martells, he (Reluctantly) accepts, though he still pledges to himself to remain celibate. As it turns out, keeping such a promise is harder than it seems, what with the beautiful men and women of Dorne.</p>
<p>And how will Jon's family react when Jon returns from Dorne a changed man?</p>
<p>Response to the ASOIAF Kink meme: </p>
<p>"The Martells (specifically Oberyn) sex Jon up and teach him to sex other people up using his seductive bastard wiles. </p>
<p>When Jon meets Robb again he uses all he's learned to get what he wants. (Robb screwing him silly, if that was unclear at all.)"</p>
<p>By anonymous.<br/>Whoever posted this, many thanks. I'm enjoying writing this fic very much!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An unexpected turn of events.

Jon looked to his father, sitting there in his solar. “Is something the matter, my lord?”  
Eddard chuckled. “Son, you know you can call me 'father'. Just because Cat demands you call her my lady, it doesn't mean you have to treat me as anything less than your father. Besides, that is not the matter at hand. Please, be seated” he smiled warmly.

Jon could only gauge that, from his father's smile, he bore good news, so Jon allowed a thin smile to spread across his lips.   
“Thank you,” he said, as he sat opposite to Eddard Stark. “Father.”

“It is my understanding that you aspire to join the Night's watch, is that correct?” asked Jon's father. Jon nodded. “Yes, father.”  
Eddard's smile widened. “And it's an honourable path to take. I'm proud of your choices, believe me, more than anyone, but...” he chewed his lip.  
“What?” Jon asked, raising an eyebrow. Uncle Benjen had always used to say that anything said before the word 'But' didn't really count, and that was a saying Jon Snow had taken to heart.

“You're sixteen, Jon. Barely a man grown. Don't you wish to experience the world, before you pledge yourself to a life of servitude?”  
Jon frowned. Was his father really trying to convince him against following his dream of joining the watch?

“I'm a bastard.” Eddard tried to raise a point, but Jon would not hear it. “I'm a bastard” he repeated, more firmly. “What is there for me in the world? My siblings will all be wed, to handsome young Lords and beautiful young Ladies. Not I, though. I'm destined to a life being looked down upon, wherever I go. Apart from the Night's watch. I want to join the watch, because the watch won't care whether or not my mother was lowborn, and because there, I can live a life of honour and duty” Jon explained.

Eddard seemed taken aback by Jon's words, and Jon felt a pang of guilt rising. After all, his father had gone to vast lengths to make Jon feel equal to his trueborn siblings, and Jon began to realize how ungrateful he was sounding. Just before he apologized, Eddard sighed and spoke up.

“I know. I know it's difficult, son. You know I love you just as much as I love Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon, yes?”  
Jon nodded. For all the coldness Lady Catelyn had shown him, he had to admit he could not have asked for a kinder father. Kinder brothers and sisters, too; he loved his siblings dearly, though Sansa was not exactly a paragon of sisterly affection when it came to him.  
“Yes, father. I know.”  
Eddard smiled faintly. “Good. Good. Please, Jon, would you listen to what I have to say?”  
Jon sighed. He owed his father that much, at least. “Yes, father. I shall listen.”

“Now, what I'm proposing is that you spend a year away.” Jon disliked the sound of this already; but he did not interrupt. “Before I knew of your intentions to leave for the Night's watch, I... I was hoping to find a match for you. Some noble's natural daughter, preferably. Prince Oberyn of Dorne, I asked first. He has eight natural daughters, three of whom are of a suitable age to wed. Sadly, Prince Oberyn does not wish for his daughters to wed. I was about to ask the King about his daughter, Mya Stone from the Vale, when Benjen told me you wished to take the black. But Oberyn... Oberyn sent me something more in his response. He offered to take in one of my children at Sunspear for one year. Catelyn said the honour should be bestowed upon Robb, or maybe Sansa... But I refused. Jon, I think YOU would benefit most from a year in Dorne.”

Jon was in shock. His mouth dropped slightly agape. He never knew his father had actually taken the effort to find him a WIFE. Jon Snow, married and with a child. He never thought of that. He never thought it was possible. And to offer him a year in Dorne? Catelyn Stark was always furious when Jon received special treatment, so his father must have taken a copious amount of shit from his wife when she found out. He knew how Catelyn got when she was angry; needless to say, it was a terrifying prospect, and he felt awfully sorry for his father. 

“The watch, though...” Jon mumbled.  
“Jon, the wall will still be standing in a year's time. If you still wish to take the black then, believe me, I will make no effort to stop you. Or, if you change your mind about the watch in your year away, I'll see if Mya Stone's up for that wedding, eh?” he asked, smiling and chuckling to himself.  
Jon pondered this for what seemed like an eternity. The watch was his life's dream; to serve, to become a man of honour much like his father. To prove that not every bastard was craven, lecherous and weak of spirit. Then again, Dorne... Dorne interested him. It was warm, and sunny, far from the nearly consistent cold and snow he was used to here in the North. If he were to spend his whole life in the cold North, would he really want to do so without experiencing some time in a different place? After all, this might be the last chance he had, and, like his father said, the wall would still be there. 

“You don't have to go. No-one's forcing you” said Eddard. “But, some of the best years of my life were spent growing up in the vale. Promise me, you'll think about it?”  
“I will” said Jon, and he meant it. He smiled. “I will.”

A few hours later, Theon and Robb practically ambushed Jon in the courtyard of Winterfell. “What did Lord Stark want to see you about, Snow?” smirked Theon.  
“Shut up, Greyjoy” sighed Jon.  
Theon shot him a scowl.   
“Be nice” Robb commanded the two of them. And, just like that, both Jon and Theon calmed. They might dislike one another, but Jon and Theon both adored Robb. 

Jon was a little jealous of his brother, the stronger one of the two, the one who had known a mother's love his whole life, the one all the girls swooned over, the one with lovely red hair and bright blue eyes, the one who always knew how to make others laugh and could always provide an interesting conversation. But he loved him. Loved him, because he was the best brother he could imagine. Whereas Sansa almost always called him half-brother, Robb had never called him that, not once. Whenever someone made fun of his bastard status, Robb would always be there to shoot that person a firm scowl that shut them right up. Robb was always up for sharing a skin of wine behind the stables. 

“But, seriously, Jon, what did father want with you?” Robb asked, raising an eyebrow. Jon didn't really want to speak about it. But he could not lie. Not to Robb, of all people.  
Jon let out a sigh. “Father wants to send me to Dorne for a year.” He smiled slightly.  
Robb grinned. Gods, did Robb have a nice smile. The kind of smile that made the whole day seem just that little bit brighter.   
“You lucky bastard!” sighed Theon, sounding almost ANGRY.  
“That's fantastic! You are lucky!” beamed Robb. “Dorne sounds lovely! I must say, I am a little envious... But you deserve a break. I love my mother, more than anything, but I admit you could do with a rest from those harsh stares.”

Jon nodded. “I don't think I'm going to go, though. I want to join the watch, always have, since I was six. I can't just give up on my dream, now, can I?”.  
Robb frowned, but Theon burst into laughter.  
Both brothers, Stark and Snow, turned to Theon at that second. Theon tried to stifle his laughter, but he could not. “Someone tell a joke, Greyjoy?” snapped Jon.

Theon regained his composure, and caught his breath. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just... I was thinking about how jealous I was. That YOU, the BASTARD, get to go to DORNE. Dorne, where the best food and wine in the seven kingdoms are prepared, the place that has warm suns and sandy beaches and cool, refreshing sea. And, most importantly, the place where all your desires could be fulfilled. Slim girls, fat girls, busty girls, short girls, tall girls, any type of girl you could imagine... The best girls are ALL from Dorne, or so I've heard. You can even fuck BOYS there, if you're that way inclined.” Theon smirked wickedly. “Wouldn't be surprised if you were; after all, you ARE choosing to spend the rest of your life surrounded by men and men only” he chuckled. Jon blushed, but thankfully, Theon did not notice the redness in his cheeks.

“If I was offered a year in Dorne, my cock would probably drop off by the time I was done there. But it's just like you, to turn down such an opportunity in favour of freezing and remaining a maid at the damned night's watch” chuckled Theon.

“Greyjoy” warned Robb, but Jon was not insulted by the little outburst. He thought deeply about it, in fact. Did... Did Theon say he was JEALOUS that Jon had the opportunity to go to Dorne? In that moment, his mind seemed to make itself up.  
“You know, Theon, you're right. I WILL go to Dorne” smiled Jon.  
And, from the look on Theon's face in that very moment, the look of pure, seething and angry jealousy, Jon could already tell he'd made the right decision.


	2. A new family.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'He shook his head. This was ridiculous. He'd always found other boys HANDSOME; Just look at ROBB, for example. You'd be an idiot not to call Robb fucking Stark attractive, girl or boy. And Theon, too, had lovely hair, though he hated Greyjoy's guts.'
> 
> Jon arrives in Dorne, and finds that his lusts may just get the better of him.

Jon arrived at Sunspear late in the evening, after a two month boat journey. Having never travelled by ship before, he'd spent most of the first two weeks throwing his guts up; but after that, he'd gotten used to water travel, and had even began to enjoy the way the wind rushed through his hair and the smell of salt water in his nose when he stood out on the decks.

As Sunspear had no harbour, his boat, which had gone from White Harbour and was bound for Pentos, dropped him off into a smaller row boat close to the shore, in which he was rowed to the shore, where an escort party would be waiting for him.

What he hadn't been expecting was that the Dornish prince himself had come to the beach to greet him. Two others waited alongside him. When Jon stepped off the ship, Prince Oberyn was the first to introduce himself. 

“Lord Snow” greeted Oberyn, in his thick, Dornish accent. Jon knew that Oberyn had seen over forty years; but, it could not be denied, Jon found him rather handsome. Okay, VERY handsome. Dark and long hair showed just the slightest suggestion that it might begin to grey, and his skin was the most beautiful colour he'd ever seen. He had a close-cropped, black beard, and piercing black eyes, eyes full of wisdom and mystery all at once.  
“I am Oberyn Martell. It is … Pleasant to see you” he smiled. “I have heard much about your father. I hear he wanted to see Gregor Clegane, the mountain, killed for his crimes. Most noble.”  
The Dornish prince shook his head sadly. Jon understood why the man was upset; after all, he'd lost his SISTER. If something like that had happened to Arya, or Sansa... No, Jon did not even want to think about that.

Jon fell to one knee. “My prince. It is-”  
Oberyn chuckled, and patted Jon on the back. “Rise, Snow. You need not be so formal with me” he smiled. “You know, where you are from a bastard might have to lick the boots of the world. Here, you are just like any other man.”  
Jon felt his lips forming into a smile. Here, he could be seen as... Equal? Dorne was a strange place; the evening was pleasantly warm, warm enough for him to be wearing little more than a white short-sleeved tunic, a pair of baggy black britches, and simple leather shoes, but he had been warmed that when dawn came, it would be scorchingly hot. To be dressed this sparingly in Winterfell at this time of night would be a death sentence. The food, too, apparently, was scorchingly hot.   
“If only it were that way in the North. If I may... what is it about Dorne that makes... people like me... so accepted? Meaning no offence” Jon said awkwardly.

If Jon had caused offence accidentally, Oberyn did not seem offended. He simply shrugged. “You're a bastard. I am trueborn. You have pale skin” he pointed out, laying a hand on Jon's wrist. The gesture made Jon's face blush slightly, though he did well to hide it. “And I have dark skin. Everyone sees us as different, and yet, if you cut us in half” he grinned. “We'd look the same on the inside, I guarantee. I have seen forty-two name days, and have been fighting since I was younger than you, boy” he smirked. “Believe me when I say, I have seen a lot of blood. Bastard blood and trueborn blood, Northern blood and southern blood, it all looks the same. So, why should it matter? Dorne is the only place that seems to have figured it out” he sighed. 

He looked over to his companion, a lovely-looking, dark-skinned, dark-haired woman. “Ellaria Sand” she smiled. “Lover to prince Oberyn” she whispered, sounding almost SEDUCTIVE. She kissed him on the cheek, which made him flush a deep red, like wine. She giggled at that. “He's handsome, is he not? And I had heard that all the Northmen were such ugly, brutish men”. If you think I'm handsome, you should see my brother, he told himself. 

“He is handsome” said Oberyn softly. “Very handsome indeed.” If Jon did not know any better, he would almost think that OBERYN sounded seductive. The other man, the younger-looking one with stubble and bright blue eyes, nodded also. “Agreed. Damon Sand, by the way.” he smiled, and Jon was almost certain he'd seen the young man WINK. 

Three people had just complemented his looks; three very, very beautiful people. He'd never really been complemented before, apart from by Theon when he was drunk and joking around. Jon had not thought it would be possible to blush this deeply; thankfully, they were not teasing him for it, though he was almost certain he heard Damon whisper to Oberyn, and Oberyn choking back laughter.   
“Thank you My prince. Ser. Milady” he stammered out, taking a deep few breaths. Gods, Jon, could you make yourself look any more like a damned fool? He asked himself, trying to calm down. Oberyn kissed Ellaria softly on the lips. For just the briefest of seconds, Jon's mind replaced Ellaria with HIMSELF, and to his horror, he felt stirring in his britches. After calming his cock before it managed to swell, he focused back on the three Dornish. 

“You are done blushing like a maiden?” chuckled Oberyn. Jon felt mortified. Was he about to go through a YEAR of this embarrassment? Jon could only nod.   
“Then we should go.” Before Oberyn climbed onto his own horse, he whispered into Jon's ear. The feeling of his breath on Jon's skin made him shudder. “You ought to find yourself a lover of your own, you know. Dornish girls and boys are not so shy and repressed as they are in the deep dark North, and I find we Dornish lead much happier lives for it”.

Oberyn's words dwelled in his mind as they rode to Sunspear. Damon, Oberyn and Ellaria all traded japes with one another, and Jon occasionally laughed along, though he was too distracted to pay any real attention. Find a lover? It was true, Jon did think about making love, sometimes. But he was no lecher. He'd pledged to himself to father no bastards. Then again, here in Dorne, bastards were more accepted. No, he told himself. He would not father any children, not unmarried. He needed to be HONOURABLE. Still, it was a damn shame, what with all these beautiful, exotic Dornish women around.

But what about boys? Theon had japed about it, though in fact he had caught Theon staring at Robb's groin AT LEAST three times in the past. Could he lay with another man? The imagine flashed in his head again, of Oberyn and him kissing. Or Damon Sand and him kissing. He shook his head. This was ridiculous. He'd always found other boys HANDSOME; Just look at ROBB, for example. You'd be an idiot not to call Robb fucking Stark attractive, girl or boy. And Theon, too, had lovely hair, though he hated Greyjoy's guts.  
Oberyn and Damon, too. They were fucking good looking; in their own way, as attractive as Ellaria, at least.   
Still, it wasn't exactly honourable to fuck a man, or be fucked by a man. True, no bastards would come of such a union, but he was under the impression that it was immoral; after all, there were many jokes about 'boyfuckers' in the North, though Jon never really saw anything wrong with it. To each his own, Jon supposed.

No, he'd have to stay honourable. Like a Stark. Like a Northerner. He could enjoy Dorne, enjoy it very much, but he was still of the North, no matter where he went. His family's honour was at stake. 

Jon was still lost in his thought when they arrived at Sunspear. “Welcome!” announced the Dornish prince excitedly. Jon smiled as he stepped off his horse. A beautiful woman, with dark skin, paler than Oberyn's, but a good deal darker than his own skin, and curled hair, with amber eyes, approached him. She had a luscious, curvaceous body, and Jon could not help but notice that her silks covered a lot less than the thick gowns women wore in the North.

“Snow. I am Zhoe” she purred softly. Jon was taken aback by her beauty, but managed to meet her eyes and force a reply. She looked to him with wide, wondrous eyes, as though she'd never seen a Northerner before.   
“A pleasure, Zhoe” he said, smiling an awkward, boyish smile at her.   
“The pleasure is mine. Come, I shall show you to your chambers, then to dinner. Prince Doran is eager to meet you.”  
“Thank you, Zhoe”.

After waving his farewells to Oberyn and Damon and Ellaria, Jon was led to his room. Sunspear was a strange, but beautiful castle; full of rich colours and fine curiosities, it was unlike anything in the North. Winterfell had it's own cold, harsh, rugged beauty, but this was wonderful.  
After beautiful Zhoe left him in his room with what just might have been yet another fucking wink, Jon slowly unpacked and got used to the place. The blankets were thin, nothing alike to the thick furs he used to curl up under at Winterfell.   
There was a small table on the corner, with a pitcher of wine, a pitcher of water, some odd yellow curved and orange circular fruits, and one glass. The wine was for him, Zhoe had said, as was everything else. 

Jon decided he would have one glass of wine. One sip of this wine and Jon's eyes widened. Dornish wine was like nothing he had ever tasted. He took hungry sips, relishing the fruity, refreshing, cooling taste of wine. It was beyond delicious. 

Jon was about to pour himself yet ANOTHER glass, when Zhoe returned.   
“It's time for dinner” she smiled to him.  
Jon followed her to the dining hall. He was thankful for the wine, as he was feeling a lot more confident due to it. 

Dinner went flawlessly. Of course, like her uncle, Arianne Martell was the very image of beauty. Not too skinny, but by no means overweight, with a bright personality, a kind smile, and sparkling dark eyes. 

Doran asked him many questions about the North. Arianne listened curiously, and both she and Doran asked questions about Robb. Mayhaps they were considering a wedding. Oberyn, Ellaria and Damon made many entertaining japes, though these japes were a lot more tasteful than what he had heard coming from their mouths on the journey from the beach. In fact, even Jon himself had managed to produce a joke or two, mostly about the antics of Theon Greyjoy, and the childhood story where he'd covered himself in flour, hidden in the crypts, and pretended to be a ghost to scare his younger siblings.

That story, in particular, had gone down well, and Jon was feeling accomplished. The food was delicious, if painfully spicy at first; after the first few bites, Jon had managed to control the pain that this Dornish food was causing him with the vast array of spices, and by the end of the meal, he could understand why Dornish food was so well renowned. 

If the wine in his chamber was good, the wine that was served in the dining hall at Sunspear was even more divine, and the Dornish people had no limits on how much he drank. In fact, Oberyn had even encouraged him to drink more, to the point when he had drank three cups of wine and was feeling rather tipsy.

All in all, it had been a wonderful evening. Jon felt a lot more confident, at least, around the Martell family. But he was still embarrassed about the complements. When Oberyn had mentioned that Zhoe was giving him looks, Jon blushed and chuckled it off. Oberyn told Jon that he should speak to her, and he did try, on the way back to his chamber, but the conversation between them was short and awkward. It made no matter. He was a Stark, in blood if not in name, and a few glasses of wine was not going to take his honour away from him. He had promised himself not to bed ANYONE, and he intended to keep that promise. 

Still, late that night, whilst he was lying in bed, naked with the covers kicked off, yet still unable to sleep thanks to this southron heat, he found his mind wandering to the beautiful people of Dorne that he had met. Oberyn, Zhoe, Damon and Ellaria; he could not help his mind from wandering to images of what these people might look like underneath all their silks and finery. 

Jon felt his cock grow harder by the second as dirty thoughts flowed through his mind; he tried to block them out, but damn it, it was not working, only getting worse.   
This meant Jon was in the most awkward of situations; he had a raging hard-on, and could not make these foul thoughts go away, and yet he could not take care of this problem, for it was generally considered ill mannered to shoot one's seed into the bed where you are a guest. 

Still, the thoughts came, making his erection more and more painful by the second. Eventually, he could not help himself. He reached down to his cock, and began slow, gentle strokes.  
Images flooded his mind; first, he and Zhoe. Zhoe's legs were spread, and she was lain on the bed, in front of him, whilst he licked at her cunt with vigour and passion.  
This was a normal fantasy, for him; the kind of thing that he pleased himself to when he was in Winterfell. After all, he could not deny himself ALL forms of pleasure.

Then stranger fantasies flooded his mind. Oberyn. Now, the Dornish prince was lying in front of him, whilst Jon took the other man's cock into his mouth, and sucked, slowly, sensually. Jon had never thought about another man this way, but he couldn't stop himself, because it felt so fucking incredible. He couldn't care less about right and wrong; he was having the most rewarding wank of his life, and he was not about to stop it.

Now Jon was the one lying on the bed, and Oberyn knelt between his legs. Oberyn began thrusting in and out of Jon's arse and it felt so GOOD, as Jon masturbated furiously to the mental image. Jon was lying there, being taken by the Dornishman like some common whore, moaning and whimpering, BEGGING for his cock, scratching at his back as Prince Oberyn Martell fucked him harder and faster.

Jon could feel himself getting close now, and oh fuck, it felt incredible, he was going to come, he was going to reach his climax.  
However, at the last moment, an imagine flicked in his head. He was still thinking about being fucked by another man, but this man was not Oberyn. Now, the man on top of him, telling him what a slut he was being, making him cry for more cock up his arse, fucking him hard and fast, was Robb Stark, his own fucking brother. And THAT, the image of beautiful blue eyes, of fiery red hair, of his tough, powerful body slamming into Jon's slender and delicate one, was what sent him over the edge.

Jon spilled his seed with a shudder and a gasp, his cock throbbing violently in his hand, covering his bare chest and hand with warm, thick fluid. Jon had no idea what to do with the fluid; he couldn't exactly wipe it all up on a blanket which belonged to the Martells, so he disposed of it the only way he could think of; by wiping it up onto his hand, and licking the hand clean. The liquid tasted salty, and Jon felt like a dirty whore, drinking up his own seed as though it were water. But Jon realized something else. He LIKED feeling like a dirty whore. And, to his horror, the idea of fucking another man got him going even more than the idea of fucking a beautiful girl, and even more to his horror, the man who Jon found the most handsome was his own fucking brother. 

Jon, the dirty whore who wants to fuck his own brother. That did not have a nice sound to it. Jon gulped as he remembered that he had to spend another year in this town, this town which gave him such corrupt, indecent thoughts. Another year, and his honour relied on him RESISTING all the beautiful girls and boys of Dorne. Jon Snow was well and truly fucked.


	3. The viper's strike.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Still, although Jon was beginning to eat, drink, dress, fight, and even talk like a Dornishman, one thing was different about him; the way he reacted to girls and boys.'
> 
> Oberyn PoV. Oberyn Martell notices how shy Jon Snow is, and so he's decided to help the boy overcome this lack of confidence, Martell-style.

Oberyn regarded Jon Snow with confusion. After all, he was an interesting, confusing young boy. He was polite, but shy, and Oberyn could not see why he was like this.  
For two weeks now, Jon had been here in Dorne, and he was really settling in fast. He'd gotten used to the wine and food faster than any other outsider Oberyn Martell had ever seen before.

Jon was beginning to fit in well with the Dornish. In the sun, his pale skin had gained a few freckles, which improved on his already impressive appearance. He'd taken to wearing Dornish clothes; Fine silks and brighter colours. Oberyn had began training him in the Dornish manner of combat; and he had the right body for it. The Northern fighting style relied on strength above all else, but Jon was not as heavily built as most of the Northerners Oberyn had seen in the past. He was slender, and nimble, and he was already getting pretty damn good at the Dornish ways of battle, with spears, curved swords and little mettle bucklers, relying on his speed and sharpness of mind above all else.

Still, although Jon was beginning to eat, drink, dress, fight, and even talk like a Dornishman, one thing was different about him; the way he reacted to girls and boys. He'd SEEN the way that most of the serving girls and even a few of the serving boys at Sunspear looked at him; there was no denying it, Jon Snow was handsome, in his rugged, Northern way, with his harsh accent and pale skin that combined so wonderfully with dark hair. Even Arianne and Damon had shot him more than a few cheeky glances when they thought no-one was looking, and Ellaria had commented more than once that she wished he could be joining them on some of their passionate nights together.

Still, despite all the attention, Jon was either unaware of what all these boys and girls wanted from him, or wilfully choosing not to fulfil their (and his) desires. Oberyn knew Jon was interested in boys and girls both; he'd seen the way Jon looked at so many people, himself included, after all. So why was such a handsome young man being so shy? Then it hit him.  
The rest of Westeros discourages exploring your desires. Dorne, on the other hand, plays by altogether different rules, and Oberyn decided that Jon Snow would be a lot more happy and more confident if he learned to pursue, rather than suppress, his desires, as the North seemingly encouraged the boy to do. After all, Jon Snow was a beautiful young lad, and it would be a great shame were such beauty to go to waste.  
It was clear that Jon was a virgin, and Oberyn set out to change that tonight.

He found Jon Snow in the yard, still practising Dornish sword techniques. Jon was very dedicated. It was early evening; the sun was still beating down, though it had cooled significantly from the blazing heat earlier in the day.  
“Jon!” he called out, walking into the yard.  
“Prince Oberyn” breathed Jon. He was bare-chested, allowing his pale skin to be exposed to the hot sun, and here, hot, sticky, breathless, and half-naked, Oberyn could not resist feeling ever so slightly aroused at the sight.   
Jon smiled.  
“You are a virgin, yes?”  
Jon blushed and Oberyn chuckled. There was the shyness again, but Oberyn knew all this shyness would be gone, come the morning. 

Jon looked way too embarrassed to even answer the question, so that could be taken as a clear yes. “Why is this?” Oberyn asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“I- I-” stammered Jon. “I don't want to father a bastard, and... I... I.... er....”  
Oberyn chuckled. This was the reason? Jon was his father's son, indeed. “Jon, you should learn to live your life with some passion! I don't like the idea of the night's watch, but if you insist on joining in a year's time, then this is your.. last chance to enjoy the pleasures of life.”

Jon sighed, and Oberyn could tell that the boy wanted to loose his virginity, wanted to desperately, but wouldn't allow himself.  
“But... My family” he muttered. “My honour..”

Oberyn lay a firm hand on Jon's shoulder. “You think you will bring shame to your family. You think that enjoying life makes you less honourable, and you are shy because you are a virgin. I understand” he giggled. 

“However, I would like to reward you. For being so respectful to my family and friends.”  
Jon smiled at that; rightfully so. What Oberyn had in mind would change Jon Snow, the innocent, honourable boy from the North, forever, and most definitely for the better.

“Reward me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. The way he raised the brow almost seemed seductive, which was a good sign. It meant Jon had the ability to be VERY seductive indeed, with a little practise; Oberyn could see that Snow had potential in this area. 

“Yes. Reward you. Ellaria, Damon and I are hosting a small gathering tonight, after dinner. We would be pleased to invite you along. What say you?” he inquired.

“It sounds wonderful” smiled Jon. An innocent little smile; Jon was still an innocent boy, but that would all be changing soon, Oberyn knew. “I'd be honoured to attend” Jon continued with a nod. 

“Brilliant, brilliant”. Oberyn smirked. “Come to my chambers, after dinner. You know where my chambers are, yes?”

Jon blushed, though he did well to hide it. No doubt the implication was nagging at the back of the boy's mind, but knowing how naïve in the ways of love that Jon Snow was, he would be convincing himself it would be something else. Good. Let him think Oberyn did not mean to give Snow the best night of his life.

“Of course, Prince Oberyn. I shall see you there” Jon said, with more than a little enthusiasm. “Thank you” he added earnestly. 

“Until tonight, then, Lord Jon” he grinned, letting his gaze settle on Jon before he left the courtyard through the archway.

Oberyn headed back to his chambers, where the two Sands, Damon and Ellaria, were waiting. Ellaria was wearing nothing but an almost see-through, crimson silk robe, and Damon was stripped to his britches. “What took you so long, my love?” asked Ellaria, as she wrapped her arms around his waist and purred into his ear. “Were you off fucking that pretty northern boy?” she teased.

“You fucked Snow and haven't shared him with us yet?!” asked Damon, almost sounding indignant and insulted, though Oberyn knew Damon sand only meant it as a joke.  
“Slow down” Oberyn laughed, as he kissed Ellaria on the lips softly.   
“Jon's a virgin” he grinned.

“As if that wasn't obvious” retorted Damon, earning a giggle from Ellaria and a small laugh from Oberyn too.  
“He won't be for much longer, though. Let's just say, when we next see young Jon Snow, we're going to give him a VERY warm welcome” he smirked, raising an eyebrow as he climbed onto the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry this chapter is so short, but it's really just setting the scene for the next chapter (Which will be a lot longer, smuttier, and from Jon's perspective.)  
> I shall try and get my next chapter out as soon as I can.


	4. A memorable night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'It did not help when he came in to a scene seemingly devised to trigger his arousal. Oberyn was lying on the bed, with a breathless, happy look on his face, wearing just his britches without even a belt.'
> 
> Jon attends Oberyn Martell's gathering, and gets a little more than he bargained for. Not that Jon's complaining, of course.

For the rest of the evening, Jon was anticipating the gathering Oberyn had arranged. He knew it would just be something friendly, probably just a few cups of wine and some harmless banter, but he could not stop his darkest thoughts running through his head. The way Oberyn had looked at him right before leaving was beyond a tease; those dark, lusty eyes, piercing his soul, gave Jon the feeling that Oberyn Martell knew every one of his deepest desires. 

Though Jon had heard much about Oberyn's reputation as a lover, he did not actually believe that the Dornish prince was setting out to seduce him. Which was good, of course. Perfect. Though he couldn't help the rising of his manhood whenever he thought about having his brains fucked out by the Dornishman. 

It was after dinner, and Jon was staring at himself in the looking glass, preparing for the evening ahead. “You're not the handsome one, Jon. Everyone back in Winterfell was starry-eyed over Robb, not you.” He told himself, again and again and again. Were it Robb in Dorne and not he, Jon was sure that Oberyn would DEFINITELY want to fuck HIM. But he was not Robb. He was Jon. Plain, black-haired, grey-eyed, slim Jon, not red-haired, beautiful Robb, Robb with the body seemingly created by the gods themselves, Robb with eyes that could capture anyone's soul, Robb who's laugh and smile sent everyone wild.

“Just a friendly evening. Wine and banter. Wine and banter.”  
Though, Jon could not deny, he had dressed to look perhaps a little more pretty than usual. He wore a fine, black and red silken tunic, tighter than usual, to cling to his lithe and athletic figure. His belt was pulled a little more taught, so that his britches practically embraced his waist. 

With a deep breath, Jon set off for Oberyn Martell's chamber. “Wine and banter” he reminded himself yet again, taking yet another long inhale and exhale before tapping at the Dornish prince's door three times. 

“Come in!”.   
Oberyn's deep, husky voice. That voice made him shudder, and he thought back to the night he arrived, when he'd lain in bed and stroked his cock whilst thinking about Oberyn, making sweet yet hard love to him. Truth be told, he'd pleasured himself most every evening this fortnight, whilst lying in bed, and not just thinking about Oberyn. About Robb, mostly. Sometimes Theon. Sometimes Ellaria Sand, once even Arianne Martell. Gods help me, he thought to himself as he opened the door.

It did not help when he came in to a scene seemingly devised to trigger his arousal. Oberyn was lying on the bed, with a breathless, happy look on his face, wearing just his britches without even a belt. Next to him lay Ellaria, a thin smile on her face, wearing a fine gown that was so thin that Jon could see the outline of her body through it, her hardened nipples poking through. Her hair was ruffled in the same way that he'd seen the hair of a few of the serving maids at Winterfell, after they'd been behind the stables for a tumble with Theon. Damon, meanwhile, was seated on the chair at Oberyn's table, his dark hair also messy, wearing nothing but a black silken robe, loosely tied to give Jon a pleasant view of his bare chest. He was leaning back, taking slow sips of wine.

“Greetings” Jon said softly, trying his best to fight his body's response to the erotic nature of the room. Fine, red silks and tapestries covered the walls and bed, and candles burned on the small table that Damon was seated at, giving off a delicious scent. It was lucky that Jon HAD pleasured himself before coming here, or he was sure he'd be dealing with a raging erection right now.

“Lord Jon of the North!” Oberyn smiled brightly, and Jon could not help but smile back. Oberyn had perfect teeth, straight and white and not one was missing, in spite of the man's years of combat. 

“Snow” greeted Ellaria, in a warm, sweet voice like honey. Jon could see why Oberyn loved that woman; she was gorgeous, and had a golden heart that went perfectly with her seductive way of moving and speaking.   
“Pleased you've finally joined us” said Damon, nodding over at him. 

“Please, have a seat” Oberyn said wistfully. Jon was about to ask where, and Oberyn, as though he'd read Snow's mind, followed up with “Anywhere that you so please”.

Jon decided to sit at the end of the bed, though he sat awkwardly and in a stiff manner. “Relax” purred Ellaria. “We're not going to bite you or anything” she said softly, delicately.   
“Unless that's what gets your blood pumping” smirked Damon, shooting him a wink. Oberyn and Ellaria and Damon broke into gentle laughter at this, and Jon, too, managed a shy giggle, looking down to hide the redness in his cheeks. 

“Want some wine?” asked Oberyn, yet again piercing Jon's mind with his eyes. He didn't want some wine, he NEEDED some wine; he knew it was only natural for a boy of his age to be thinking about fucking a little, but he was thinking about it far too much, and it was making things extremely awkward. Jon wondered if this was what it felt like to be Theon Greyjoy, who's cock seemingly dictated his every action.

“Thank you” Jon mumbled, smiling shyly.  
Damon instinctively poured some into a chalice, and slowly, lazily got to his feet and walked to where Jon was seated. When Jon took the cup of wine from Damon Sand, their hands touched, and Jon froze. He wasn't sure if he froze because he was shy, or because he didn't want this contact to END, not really; Damon's fingers were rough and calloused, as one would expect from an experienced knight, yet at the same time, felt gentle and warm against his skin.  
Damon allowed the touch to linger for a brief while, and stared down at Jon, seemingly fucking him with his eyes.

“Thank you, Ser” Jon stuttered, as he took a deep drink. The wine was fucking delicious, and it at least helped him feel a lot more easy in his own skin. 

“Oberyn, why don't we tell our new friend a few stories to help him relax, hm? Maybe the ones about the time we toured the free cities together?”  
Oberyn eyed Jon heartily. “Would you like to hear those ones?” he asked.  
Jon nodded slowly. “Yes. I'd love to.”

And so, for a long time, Oberyn and Ellaria talked about the free cities. They would speak, and laugh, and correct each other on details, and as the night went on, Jon found himself relaxing, leaning further into the luxuriously comfortable bed, drinking more of their delicious wine, and trading and laughing at japes with his four new-found acquaintances. Theon always said Jon was dour and boring, but Jon found that the Martells regarded him with a keen interest, and laughed at his jokes. 

Oberyn and Ellaria were interesting people, no doubt about that.  
They started by talking about Tyrosh, the city in which they began their tour, a journey which lasted three years. They japed about the way men and women alike wore their hair in many different colours; green and blue and purple and even pink. Ellaria laughed and teased Oberyn about the time he'd tried to dye his hair green; she stated how he looked ridiculous, and Jon found himself laughing along as he pictured Oberyn Martell, the elegant, graceful prince of Dorne, with bright green hair. He would look faintly ridiculous, in Jon's mind, but no less handsome.

They went on to talk about Myr, which they claimed had wine so fine that it made the wonderful Dornish wine he was drinking taste like piss by comparison. They laughed about Pentos, where the men all wore hilarious forked beards, beards that Oberyn could have sworn were part of some elaborate joke.   
They spoke at length regarding Braavos, in which both claimed to have seen assassins who could change their faces at the mere click of their fingers; Jon kept that story in mind, knowing how much Arya would love to hear it.  
On and on, they told wonderful stories; Lorath, which was shrouded in mystery. Norvos, where the fighting men wore robes and huge axes and great shaggy beards, the home of Oberyn's good-sister Mellario and Areo Hotah, the captain of the guards here at Sunspear. 

Perhaps the most hilarious story Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand told was of their time in Qohor, where they met a man known as Vargo Hoat, commander of the Brave Companions, who Jon was told were composed of the worst scum in all the corners of the world. Oberyn had joked about Vargo's father being a goat, to which Hoat was infuriated, and stormed off, muttering about the 'thucking dorthithmenth'. 

Jon was grinning to himself, throughout the wonderful tales. Laughing, joking around; this was wonderful! He really did like the Martells, and he knew, from the fascinating tales of Oberyn's travels, and from the beautiful time he was having in Dorne, that he simply would not be able to bring himself to join the Night's watch. It should have saddened him, this thought; it was rather dishonourable, and the watch had been his life's dream, and yet he could not feel guilty about it. 

Jon DID want to experience the world, he realized; he wanted to find a love like Oberyn had, to travel the world, to love and live and be free. 

“There is one more free city that me and Ellaria visited, Snow. The city of Lys. Would you like to hear about it?” Oberyn inquired. Damon grinned at the mere mention of this city.  
“Of course, my prince” smirked Jon, relaxing and taking a deep drink of wine. He was not drunk; the wine was making his belly tingle, and his worries calm, and laughter and conversation flow more freely from his lips, but he was not shit-faced the way Theon often got. 

“You aught to take your tunic off” said Oberyn softly. “I know how you get when love-making is mentioned. Hot. Sweaty. It'll be more comfortable if you take it off.”  
Jon felt nervous yet again when Oberyn confirmed that their adventures in Lys involved passionate love, but he obliged and removed his tunic. The cool night air felt amazing on his skin, blowing gently through the cracked open window. Jon was, at the least, nowhere near as nervous as when the topic of sex had first been brought up, thanks to the wine. He looked at Oberyn with wide, curious eyes, eyes that begged the prince to continue with his tales of Lys.

“Lys. The city where me and Ellaria have enjoyed our most passionate of adventures” he grinned. “You know, some of the best girls we've ever shared have been from Lys.”  
“And the best boys” added Ellaria, with enthusiasm.   
Jon was both confused and aroused. In the North, a man was meant to stick to his wife and his wife only; even more so, a woman was meant to stick to her husband and husband only.  
“You two... You share lovers?” asked Jon. 

Oberyn, Ellaria and Damon all burst out laughing at that. “Of course they do. Why would I be here, half-naked, if they did not?” laughed Ser Damon Sand.  
“I'm sorry, meaning no offence” Jon explained quickly. “It's just... not really done in the North. I mean, my father bedded another woman once... And that's how I was born. His wife hates me for it” he sighed sadly. Oberyn, seemingly sensing the boy's sadness, lay a reassuring hand on Jon's shoulder. “It is no need to be sad, friend. And you have caused no offence. See, me and Ellaria believe that one of the fundamentals of love is to share. And with the love we have for one another, well, we are not selfish; sometimes, we share our love with others. Why, that sweet young maid, Zhoe? Ellaria has spent a couple of nights with her, and so have I. And on other nights, we both share her together. It does not mean that we love each other any less. Just that... Our love is free, and we're both happier for it.”

Jon nodded slowly. He understood. “I think that's a fine logic” he smiled a little. It was. Indeed, it was a fine logic. If only more people thought that way in the North.   
“To each his own. You might not like it, but it is worth a try. Me and Oberyn could not have it any other way” smiled Ellaria brightly. 

Jon thought this through. Could a man take multiple lovers and still be a decent person? Certainly, Oberyn and Ellaria had showed him more kindness than most. He would definitely consider them decent. His thoughts were interrupted by Oberyn's mesmerising voice.

“Lys has some of the finest people in the known world. Beautiful, with their silvery hair and blue eyes. Why, I remember once...” Oberyn looked thoughtful. “Ellaria and I met a wonderful young couple, both pretty and sweet on the outside...” he grinned wickedly. “But dark and lustful on the inside. We all shared together.” Damon looked jealous, but aroused. Jon himself was desperate to know more.

“We shared wine and food with them, and then they led us to our chambers.” Oberyn's voice was a raspy, husky tone now, low and quiet, causing Jon to listen even more intently.   
“The wife lay on the bed, whilst her husband made slow, sweet love to her. Whilst I took him from behind, made him moan my name, kissed and licked and bit at his neck. And Ellaria... Well, Ellaria, she..”  
Jon licked his lips, nothing else mattering but the story. He regarded Ellaria with a lustful look as she spoke. “I knelt above her face, and she lapped between my legs, made me beg for more of her sweet, delicate, fast tongue.”

Oberyn was making no effort to hide the hard-on rising in his britches as the story continued, and Jon found himself trying desperately to focus both on Ellaria's voice and the story, and Oberyn's rapidly growing bulge. 

“... of course, we swapped around quite a lot” Ellaria was continuing. “Oberyn had the man's wife, and I the man himself. I think, together, we tried everything we possibly could in that one night” finished Ellaria.

“Beautiful story” smiled Oberyn, planting a long, passionate kiss on Ellaria's lips. Jon was in complete awe. Oberyn looked over to him, and his gaze lowered- right to Jon's crotch. “It seems our friend Jon enjoyed the story even more so” grinned the Dornish prince.   
“Well, of course, I-”  
Jon looked down to his britches, and became painfully aware of the situation at hand. His cock was, undoubtedly, harder than it had ever been before. He suddenly ached for relief. Jon had been so mesmerised, so captivated, by the story of Lys, that he had not noticed the growth.

All others in the room laughed. Jon blushed, though try as he might, his cock did not soften. “You have a large manhood, it seems” teased Oberyn, and, as if it were possible, the aforementioned manhood grew even more rock-hard. 

“I'm sorry, oh gods I-”  
Jon was stopped by Ellaria Sand's lips against his. Jon tried to tell himself this was wrong, but he could not. How could a feeling so great be wrong?  
Oberyn's gentle hand ran through Jon's thick black curls, as Jon relaxed against Ellaria's lips, taking deep, shuddering breaths. Jon had no idea what this was all about, but he loved it. He found that any previous pledges he made to himself became irrelevant; he wanted this, wanted it a lot, why fight it?

Eventually, Ellaria's lips pulled away, and Jon stared into her eyes, gormless, gaping. Then he stared into Oberyn's eyes, even more deep and dark and beautiful than those of Ellaria Sand. Oberyn's rough lips brushed against his, and Jon almost instinctively raised a hand and rested it softly on Oberyn Martell's cheek, letting the Dornishman's lips claim his own. 

Oberyn pulled away, and a seductive smile teased at his lips.   
“So, Snow” he said, in a dark, mysterious voice that drove Jon wild with arousal. “Do you still worry about enjoying the pleasures of life ruining your precious honour?”

Jon answered Oberyn's teasing question with a peck on the lips, as he ran his hand over the older man's chest, felt his hardened, lean muscles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for being such a tease! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. A hell of a lot more action coming up in the next chapter, which I will release as soon as I am able.


	5. New pleasures.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> '“You are enthusiastic! One thing at a time, Snow. I assure you, by the end of tonight, you will have experienced many, many different things. Is that not what you want?”  
> “Yes” Jon agreed. “Gods, yes” he breathed.'
> 
> Jon has an adventurous night, to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is extremely smutty, to make up for the teasing cliffhanger last chapter! I hope it's okay for you all; this is my first attempt at writing smut scenes this intense, so I really hope I haven't done too badly xD

Jon wanted this. More than anything he'd ever wanted before. He moaned against Oberyn's lips, before kissing Ellaria yet again. All his inhabitions had gone out the window.  
Damon, meanwhile, was moving over to the bed, and climbed on, next to Oberyn. Damon lay a hand on Oberyn's leg and started stroking his inner thigh tenderly, and started unlacing Oberyn's britches.

Jon's mind wandered, just for the briefest of moments, how Robb or Theon would react were they to see him this way.   
Then all thoughts of others were removed, once Oberyn's tongue lapped at his lips, and he could only think about the way Oberyn kissed, the way his soft, warm tongue flicked into Jon's closed mouth, the way that tongue darted inside his mouth the very moment he parted his lips slightly.   
Jon let out a low, satisfied groan. 

He looked over to Damon, who was now completely naked, having shrugged off that exquisite silk gown.  
Ellaria began to expertly fumble with Jon's britches, and within seconds, they were halfway down his hips, leaving him in just his smallclothes, a simple white loincloth that hid nothing.   
Jon collapsed, lying on his back as he pulled his britches the remainder of the way down, and assessed the situation at hand.

The sight of Damon Sand, completely naked, pulling down Oberyn's britches, aroused him. The sight of Ellaria Sand, a hungry, lust-filled look in her eyes as her silken gown slid past her shoulders, aroused him also. But the thing that aroused Jon the most was Oberyn, as the britches dissappeared, then the smallclothes, exposing his manhood in all it's glory. 

“You are the only one still wearing any clothes, you know that” Oberyn grinned seductively. Jon responded by removing his smallclothes; he was slightly shy, given that no-one else had seen his cock in the past, but he felt a lot more comfortable knowing that everyone else in the room was also completely nude. 

“Come here” Oberyn commanded, and if Jon thought Ellaria's eyes were full of lust, then Oberyn's eyes were overflowing with it.   
Jon could only obey the prince's command; he only WANTED to obey the princes command, as he slowly, gingerly crawled to where Oberyn martell was lying down.

Oberyn wrapped an arm around Jon's shoulder, glanced to his painfully hard cock. Jon tried to kiss the other man, but Oberyn pulled back, a devious, teasing smile on his lips. “Not so fast, Snow. We have a whole night ahead of us; plenty of time for kissing.” 

Jon nodded and gulped. He needed the feeling of someone's lips against his, needed it with all his heart. But he trusted Oberyn. “Patience is the most important aspect of pleasure” Ellaria purred, right into his ear, to which both Oberyn and Damon nodded in agreement.

“Let me teach you how to please in the bedroom” said Oberyn. His hands slid down Jon's chest, and Jon shuddered and gasped when he felt Oberyn grasp his cock in a light hold. “Your cock is ready to burst. It is your first time; everyone gets like that on their first time. But, you cannot please if you spill your seed within the first few seconds” he chuckled.  
“The trick is, to take things slow. With a woman, you must entice her first. Get her ready, so that you will not spend before she is done.”  
Jon took a deep breath. “And... And with a man?” he asked, shyly.  
Oberyn chuckled, running a hand through Jon's hair. “You are enthusiastic! One thing at a time, Snow. I assure you, by the end of tonight, you will have experienced many, many different things. Is that not what you want?”  
“Yes” Jon agreed. “Gods, yes” he breathed. He did want to do many things; the problem was, he felt so desperate to do it all that the anticipation was killing him.

“Good. It varies from girl to girl, but in general, I find the best way to please a woman is with your tongue.”  
Ellaria nodded, seemingly agreeing wholeheartedly with Oberyn.  
“But between her legs is not the only part of a woman, you know” Oberyn added quickly. “It's not the only part of a man, either. When you are in bed with someone, anyone, you must take in their whole body. You pay attention to every inch of them. Do you understand?”  
“I... I think” Jon stammered.  
“Well, we'll see, soon enough. Go. Try to please Ellaria first” he smirked, and Ellaria smiled enthusiastically. “I will be right here. Guiding you. Helping you. Okay?”

Oberyn's words were meant to reassure, but Jon felt daunted by the task at hand. He was about to loose his virginity, in front of two additional people. But he rose to the challenge. He wanted all three of the people in this room, and he'd be a fool to back away now.

He leaned over Ellaria Sand, resting a hand on her cheek, pressing soft kisses into her lips and the corners of her mouth. She kissed him too, with her soft, sweet lips. He remembered Oberyn's advice about tongues, and took it to heart. “Gods” he breathed, as he glanced down at her body. Her breasts, full and dark, her smooth skin. His cock ached at the sight, begged for relief, but Jon knew he could not relieve his urge just yet. He had to give it time.

He made his way slowly to Ellaria's neck, where he took some of the skin between his lips and sucked softly. Ellaria moaned in response, running her hands slowly down his back. He found himself pleasantly surprised when she gave his arse a light, playful smack. It was a shock, but one that sent shivers down his spine.   
He carried on to her breasts, causing her to gasp and shudder as he delicately ran his tongue in circles around a nipple. Her sounds and touches of pleasure urged him on, made him feel more comfortable. When he heard Oberyn whisper “You are doing well” into his ear, and felt Oberyn's hand tucking a lock of hair behind the same ear, he felt even more comfortable. 

He continued to make his way down her chest, kissing, licking, and sucking small patches of skin. When he reached her waist, he looked up at her, almost asking for permission to continue.   
“Go on” urged Oberyn.   
Jon took a quick glance at the Dornish prince; he was watching the two, almost judging him on his abilities, stroking his hard cock slowly. Damon was behind him, massaging his shoulders and planting the occasional kiss into his neck.

Jon took a deep breath, calming himself before he licked her inner thigh. “Please” Ellaria whispered, as his tongue made it's way up towards her sex. When he started licking her, he felt himself become overwhelmed; the taste of her, the smell of her skin, the feeling of Oberyn's hands and her hands on his body, her moans and sighs as his tongue flicked back and forth, sometimes moving between her folds, and Oberyn's compliments, telling him “Good job” and “Just like that” and “Faster”.

He pleasured Ellaria Sand with his tongue for a while; he felt clumsy, but he was definitely enjoying it, a lot, and she at least seemed to be enjoying it, and Oberyn seemed to be enjoying the sight, so he carried on until he could feel that she was dripping with wetness, and Oberyn whispered “Now you are ready to finish” huskily. 

As Jon made his travels back up her body, he risked another glance at Oberyn, to a sight that heightened his arousal even more. He was lying back, and Damon sand's lips were around his cock, sucking expertly. Oberyn was breathing heavily, moaning, and Damon was making obscene yet beautiful slurping noises. 

Jon slowly pushed his manhood into Ellaria Sand. The feeling was so intense, Jon felt sure he was going to explode any second now, but he managed to keep control of himself, just barely. She moaned and shuddered and dragged her nails down his back, urging him for more, for greater speed. He took deep, deep breaths, trying to prolong the inevitable whilst his cock moved back and forth into the warmth and wetness. He breathed against her neck, biting softly at it, whilst her moans and cries got louder and louder. When Jon felt her body contracting around his manhood, saw her face contort with pleasure, heard her let out a shout, Jon was finished. 

His cock practically burst with pleasure, pulsating and throbbing violently for what seemed like forever, causing Jon to moan even louder than Ellaria, as his seed left his body. Breathlessly, he collapsed by her side, lazily turning his head to look over to Oberyn and Damon. It seems the sight of Jon and Ellaria reaching their climax together finished Oberyn off, too, as he threw his head back in ecstasy whilst squeezing roughly at Damon's hair. Damon pulled away, and swallowed whatever Oberyn had put in his mouth.   
On the corner of Damon's lips, some of Oberyn's cum remained, which Damon Sand quickly lapped up with a flick of his tongue.

That sight alone made Jon's cock twitch, though he knew he was not ready to reach an erection again, not just yet, not after he came so hard the first time. He relaxed, taking deep breaths. His head was swimming; the pleasures he had just experienced, he would remember for a lifetime, he was sure. How could he EVER join the Night's watch now, when he knew THIS was what he'd be missing on?  
Ellaria was nestled into his side, arms wrapped around him, whilst Oberyn lay on Jon's other side, smiling as he ran a hand through Jon's hair. 

They lay like this for what seemed like forever.  
“Are you sure that was your first time?” joked Oberyn.  
Jon nodded. He was sure. “You've seen a lot of first-timers, have you?” he smirked. He was feeling so much more confident, so much stronger now. He supposed Theon had been a little right, when he said that Jon needed to get laid. Not that he'd admit to Greyjoy that he HAD gotten something right.  
“Yes” responded Ellaria. “And none of them were as good as you” she laughed.  
“Not to say that you don't need practise, of course. You can NEVER be perfect at something, after all. No-one can. But the more you do it, the better you'll get. Now, I did say I would help you learn to please another man...” Oberyn trailed off, grinning deviously. 

Jon perked up at this, and he felt heat growing in his groin. “Damon has not been pleasured yet. Maybe you should please him, while you wait to recover from your last climax? After all, you have the right lips to suck a cock very well...”  
Jon blushed. He'd never been told he'd be particularly good at anything before, least of all love making and certainly not sucking a cock. But here he was, and if these people thought he would make a good cock sucker, Jon would try. After all, he could not deny the idea made him even more aroused than the idea of bedding a woman.

“I will pleasure Damon, then” he smirked. “How do I do it?”  
Oberyn raised an eyebrow. “You saw what he was doing to me, did you not? Well, try and do that to Damon. You'll get the hang of it. Just... take it slow. And again, like with Ellaria, he's more than just a hard cock. Touch him and kiss him, not just on the manhood, but elsewhere too.”

Damon was eager to receive his pleasure from Jon, as he climbed across the bed towards him with a hunger in his eyes, his cock already half-hard. Jon held Damon, resting one hand on his back, between his shoulder blades. His other hand lay with his fingertips lightly pressed into the side of his neck, and Jon began trailing this hand down the knight's body. Jon was nervous; he really didn't want to fuck this one up. Already, his cock was pretty much hard again; by the time he was done with Damon, he believed he would be just as outrageously, ridiculously hard as he was before bedding Ellaria.

Damon was beautiful. A chiselled chest, not overly hairy, though not completely smooth-skinned either, with eyes blue as the sky. Eyes that reminded him of Robb.   
As his fingertips trailed down, down towards Damon's cock, Damon shuddered slightly under his touch, and his eyes narrowed. Jon found he loved the little sounds Damon was making, and so he trailed his hand slowly.

Jon realized that Damon was the only one it this room that he had not kissed yet; and he set out to change that immediately. He leaned closer to him, and claimed his lips in a rough, wet, awkward kiss, but none the less enjoyable for all that. Damon's lips were a perfect balance between the roughness of Oberyn and the softness of Ellaria. 

Damon kissed Jon back, whispering his name into Jon's mouth.   
Jon responded in kind. “Damon” he groaned. His hand found the other man's cock, and he held it lightly, taking deep breaths. This was the first time he'd actually touched another man in this place, and Jon found it exceedingly exciting. 

He fumbled at the already erect penis awkwardly, trying to rub it the way he rubbed his own, but he was scared, for some reason. Scared and extremely turned on. Almost as though Oberyn was reading his mind, yet again, the husky voice of the Dornish prince came into his ear. “You can be a little more rough, you know. His cock is some priceless ornament” he chuckled.

Jon's breath hitched in his throat as he heard that voice, but he nodded and started rubbing Damon's shaft with more speed and a tighter grip. Damon was breathing heavily now, and even allowing soft moans to escape his lips, which urged Jon to continue. He kissed the knight on the lips one last time, before biting softly at his neck, not too hard to hurt, but hard enough to cause some sensation. This caused a loud groan from the other man, which unnerved Jon at first, made him believe he'd hurt Damon in some way, but Damon then moaned out “Jon” yet again, reassuring him, comforting him, making him know that the Knight was enjoying this as much as he was. 

Jon continued to stroke at his cock, which he noticed was thicker, though just a little shorter, than his own. Oberyn, on the other hand, was larger in both aspects than Snow.   
He eased Damon down until he was lying there, with Jon on top. Jon kissed his way down Damon's body, running his tongue along the outlines of his abdominal muscles.   
“You are a natural at this” Oberyn pointed out, and Jon did not fail to notice that both Ellaria and Oberyn were pleasuring themselves whilst watching he and Damon.

Jon smiled, before kissing the tip of Damon's cock. This set Damon shuddering, and he balled his fists in Jon's hair, tugging gentle. Slowly, carefully, nervously, he lay the tip of his tongue at the base of Damon's cock, on his underside, and ran his tongue slowly along his entire length. Jon loved the way a cock against his lips, against his tongue, felt; the way Damon moaned and shuddered was the most empowering thing he had ever experienced, and as Jon's tongue reached the head, he found the bitter, salty, delicious taste drove his desires to new levels. With even more hunger than before, he wrapped his moistened lips around the tip and slipped the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it in wild, fast circles.  
“Gods” moaned Damon. “You were right, Oberyn. He has the PERFECT lips for this..”  
This encouraged him, boosted his new-found confidence, as he worked his way along Damon Sand's thick shaft. He lowered his head slowly, until every last inch was inside his mouth, relishing the taste, the feeling against his lips, his tongue, the walls of his mouth.

Jon began to move his head up and down, slowly at first, and pressed his tongue up against the underside of Damon's manhood as he did so. His own cock was now fully hard; as he predicted, extremely hard; but he did not care about his own release, not at this moment. In the moment, all he cared about were the sounds Damon was making, the way he called out “Jon, yes, just like that, yes, Jon, JON!”

He continued to move his head up and down, as his hand rested on Damon's bare hip. Damon was getting close; a small amount of pre-cum was now dripping from his tip, and Damon's lust was getting wilder by the second. Now he grasped Jon's hair roughly, and began to thrust his hips upwards, the pace of Damon's thrusts meeting the pace of Jon's mouth working up and down.   
On and on, this continued for several minutes, before Damon came with a loud, low moan. His cock pulsed into his mouth, firing a large amount of his salty, delicious cum into his now rapidly-filling mouth. 

Jon pulled away, and was about to swallow the delicious, thick, white liquid, but before he could, Oberyn's lips were against his again. The prince's tongue forced open his mouth, and lapped hungrily, greedily at Damon's cum.   
Jon groaned into his mouth; this display of depravity, of lecherousness, drove him nearly insane, in a good way, of course. When Oberyn pulled away after the wonderful kiss, he smiled softly.   
“There is one more pleasure I would like you to experience. Ellaria and Damon have had their turns with you. And now, it is my turn” he said, a wicked smirk on his face.

“Gods, yes, anything” Jon begged.  
“To be fucked by another man can be... painful, at first. Though pain sometimes leads to more pleasure. As this is your first time, you will take control in the beginning; understood?”  
Jon nodded. He thought he understood. “You have pleased Ellaria well enough, and Damon too.”  
Damon grinned. “More than well enough. He's a CHAMPION cock-sucker, this one.”

Oberyn lay on his back, his head and shoulders propped up on a few pillows. “Damon. The oil” he commanded. Damon passed the small, glass bottle from Oberyn's bedside over to him, from which Oberyn then poured a large quantity onto his cock. He rubbed it in until it was covered, from base to shaft, glistening in the candle light.   
The sight of Oberyn, laying there, erect penis exposed, drenched in oil, made Jon feel hot, flushed, as desperate as a whore.  
“Come here. Get your legs around my hips.”

Jon obeyed with a great deal of excitement. He straddled the older man, his legs resting on either side of his hips.   
Oberyn passed him the oil. “Rub this into yourself. Around your ass” he said, his eyes more lustful than he'd ever seen them before.  
Yet again, Jon obeyed. Looking over his shoulder, he poured oil onto his lower back, all over his ass-cheeks, and down his cleft. He awkwardly rubbed it in, in particular around his tight hole. The feeling of his fingers brushing against his asshole made him moan in an obscenely wanton manner. Oberyn chuckled at this. “I assume you are ready, Snow?”

“Yes. I'm ready. More than ready. I need this. Please” he panted, too aroused to feel any shame at how much of a slut he sounded like.   
“Perfect.” His rough, calloused hands found their way to his arse cheeks, which he spread widely. Jon had an idea as to what he would do now. He lowered himself, slowly, feeling Oberyn's oiled-up tip against his virgin hole. He felt the tip penetrate him, causing him to produce a loud, ragged, long groan. Gods, this felt good. He wanted to be filled. To be fucked ruthlessly. 

Jon gasped with a mix of shock and pleasure as Oberyn thrust ever so slightly upwards, so his entire head was now inside him. This felt absolutely fucking incredible. To be stretched in such a way. Perhaps a little too enthusiastically, he lowered himself further down the older man's shaft. “Ahh” he called out in a rather loud tone, as the pain hit him. Gods, this did hurt; to have his tight arse stretched, penetrated so deeply. He rested like this for a few moments, allowing himself to get used to the feeling, and very quickly, the pain was replaced with unimaginable pleasure, pleasure he never thought was possible. “Ohhh...” he moaned aloud, nearly tearing up from the desire he was feeling.

“You are comfortable with this, yes?” Oberyn asked, raising an eyebrow. Jon answered Oberyn's question by lowering himself further down his length, the pain and pleasure mixing most deliciously. Already, a small bead of pre-cum had appeared at the tip of his cock, but the pleasure of his now-filled arse distracted him from his painful need to cum. Inch by inch, Jon lowered himself, until he felt flesh against his cheeks; flesh that confirmed he now had Oberyn's full length inside of him.

“Mmm” gasped Oberyn, his eyes wide with pleasure. “I have never had a man so tight..”  
Oberyn's hands massaged Jon's arse cheeks, and Jon responded by pressing his hands against the other man's chest. He began to rock his hips back and forth against Oberyn's manhood, again starting slow and speeding up his pace as time went on.   
He moaned and moaned and moaned. “Oberyn” he called out. “Yes, more, Oberyn!”

Oberyn responded with gasps and grunts and groans. Jon moved his hips, his mind in a state of pure ecstasy as Oberyn stretched and penetrated him. He propped himself up on his elbows, and rested a hand on the back of Jon's head. He pulled Jon's body close against his, bare chests almost touching as Jon continued to ride the prince's manhood, and gave him yet another rough, hungry kiss, his tongue teasing at Jon's lips.   
Without any warning, Oberyn's hand was around Jon's cock, which he began rubbing quickly, vigorously. 

Oberyn's hungry lips against his, his hand around his cock, the sensation of being fucked like this; it was all too much, and Jon had to take deep, deep breaths to stop him from reaching his climax early.

When Jon's climax did arrive, he screamed so much that he was sure his family would be able to hear him in Winterfell.   
His cock pulsated harder, and longer, than it ever had before; though there was not as much cum, given that he had already had two orgasms previously that evening, it was still the most intense and pleasurable climax he had ever experienced. His arse tightened around Oberyn's rock hard shaft, which, in turn, triggered Oberyn's own release. With a loud groan, the prince of Dorne spilled his warm seed deep into Jon as his cock softened whilst still inside him. 

Jon rolled over, his mind completely blown. So THIS was what it was like to be fucked by another man? Gods. He wanted this. NEEDED this. Not, of course, to say he didn't enjoy women too.   
He smiled a little as he turned to Oberyn, and Oberyn smiled back.  
“Thank you. All three of you” Jon said breathlessly, after a while of being sandwiched between three bodies.  
“Thank you!” beamed Damon. “I had an amazing night.”  
To Jon's utter delight, Oberyn and Ellaria agreed wholeheartedly. “I shall have to invite you to another one of my gatherings very soon” winked Oberyn.  
“I'd like that very much. Very, very much” grinned Jon, as he began to get up.  
“Where are you going?” asked Ellaria, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“I... I thought you'd want me to go to my own cham-”  
“Nonsense” laughed Oberyn. “You know, in Winterfell, such an affair might be something to be ashamed of, but here in Dorne? Stay. Stay until morning. It is a lovely feeling, sleeping next to someone after a passionate night of love-making, after all.”

With that, Jon lay back in his old position, smiling happily to himself. Oberyn had the right of it. It DID feel lovely, to have these people who he'd just spend what was undoubtedly the best night of his life with, next to him. For the first time, Jon slept easily. He was happy. Extremely happy. This year was going to be the best year of his life; of that, he was certain.


	6. Last goodbyes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'As they pulled away, Damon couldn't help but notice a wide, endearing grin on Jon's face. “You know I might not see you again... And there's just so much we haven't done. Isn't that a shame?”  
> Jon nodded in agreement. “It is. A great shame. So, what are we going to do about it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.'
> 
> Damon is leaving Sunspear- But not before he pays Jon Snow a quick visit.

It had been three weeks since Jon Snow had lost his virginity. And now, Damon Sand was leaving. He wanted to stay in Sunspear for a while longer; but, he had certain duties back at Godsgrace. Still, there was one thing he had yet to do. Since the first night, Jon had spent the night with Oberyn, Ellaria and himself twice more, yet there was still so much left to be done with Jon. He knew he may not see Snow again, so he was going to take this last opportunity while it was still available.

It was the early hours of the morning; though the sun had not yet risen, the sky had gone from blackness to a deep blue, and the moon was just beginning to fade from the sky. Damon would be leaving in a few hours, and was on his way to pay one last visit to the bastard from the North.

He slipped through Jon's door, and took a look at him; he was not sleeping under any blanket, and was completely naked. He felt his cock growing at the sight of him, back turned to Damon, mumbling softly to himself in his sleep. He sat on the edge of the bed, and gentle shook him awake.

“Jon. Jon!” he said quietly.  
Jon rubbed his eyes as he lazily turned to Damon, and for a brief moment, he seemed surprised. “Who ar- Oh. Hello Damon” he smiled as his eyes flickered open. He sat up, unashamed of his nude state. Jon had grown a lot more confident recently; though he still did not actively set out to seduce, he was more than willing most of the time. He'd grown quite a bit better in the bedroom, too; the first time, he'd been clumsy and awkward, though still enjoyable, but now the actions seemed almost natural to him. 

Jon took a glass of water from his bedside, and drank a large gulp.   
“What brings you here so early?” he asked, a teasing look on his lips. Jon had grown a lot better at picking up subtle hints, and judging from the glance Jon chanced at his groin, he was well aware of Damon's state of arousal. 

“You know I'm leaving later today” Damon sighed. “I just came by to say goodbye.”  
“Yes, I know you're going” Jon said sadly. “I was planning to see you off later, you know” he giggled.  
“Yes, I'm sure you will” Damon smirked. “But later, we'll be in front of everyone else, and I won't be able to do this.” He ran a hand through Jon's thick black curls, kissing his lips hungrily. Jon let out a small grunt of surprise, but quickly relaxed, and soon Jon's hands found Damon's own hair. 

As they pulled away, Damon couldn't help but notice a wide, endearing grin on Jon's face. “You know I might not see you again... And there's just so much we haven't done. Isn't that a shame?”  
Jon nodded in agreement. “It is. A great shame. So, what are we going to do about it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“Well, I think I have an idea...”. Damon kissed Jon yet again, before pushing him back onto the mattress. Jon seemed to be very clear about Damon's intentions now, and eagerly lifted his legs up so his feet were propped on the edge of the mattress. His legs were spread, giving Damon a nice view of his arsehole and semi-erect manhood.

Damon stripped his clothes down quickly, began rubbing his cock until it was extremely hard- then stopped. “Fuck” he muttered. “Forgot the oil.” Damn, how could he? He'd have to go back to get some from Oberyn now.  
Jon smirked in a devious manner. “We won't be needing oil, ser.”

“Jon, I don't think that's a good idea. Dry sex- is pretty damn painful. You might not be rea- ohh..”  
Damon gasped as he felt Jon's mouth enveloping his erection. Now he got Jon's meaning. He knew Jon was getting more confident in the bedroom, but he'd never seen him take so much action. He ran his hands through Jon's hair, taking deep, heavy breaths. When his cock was dripping with Jon's saliva, Jon pulled away and resumed his previous position.

“I like your way of thinking” chuckled Damon, as he sucked on his index finger, coating it in his own spit. He ran the finger up the cleft of Jon's ass, and began to rub around the tight, warm hole, which seemed to contract and tense at his touch. He slid the finger in up to the first knuckle, earning a gasp from Jon. “Damon” he panted under his breath. Oberyn was right; Jon was, without a doubt, the tightest fuck imaginable. He knew he would not regret paying this early-morning visit. Damon responded by sliding it up to the second knuckle, causing Jon to writhe in pleasure. Gods, Jon was in a wanton mood- he clearly was going to miss Damon just as much as Damon would miss him.

Damon allowed the finger to slide in to the base. He was about to start moving his wrist, but Jon started doing the work for him; slowly moving his hips back and forth, letting out little moans all the time. When Damon could feel Jon's ass relaxed, wet and ready, he pulled the finger out. He positioned himself above Jon, bent over between his wide-open knees. The tip of his cock pressed against his asshole, now wide and wet enough to take his cock, but Damon decided he'd tease the boy a little. After all, this may be the only time Damon got to fuck Jon Snow's asshole, and he would be damned if he was going to waste it with a quick, meaningless fuck. 

He ground the tip of his cock against Jon, causing him to squirm and squeeze his eyes shut and make obscene little whimpers. “You want this?” Damon asked teasingly.  
“Yes!” Jon almost shouted, clearly unable to bear so much teasing.  
“How much do you want this?”  
Jon opened his eyes, and Damon took the moment to appreciate how absolutely fucking pretty Jon Snow was. His dark hair, lithe body, smooth, pale skin, perfect lips. Jon leaned his body upwards, wrapping his arms around Damon's back, and kissed him yet again, hungrily, flicking his tongue against Damon's lips.

“This fucking much! Now please, please, fuck me!” Jon begged. Damon grinned. He could not help but notice how INNOCENT Jon looked, in spite of the vulgar pleas coming from his mouth- and that just made him want Jon all the more.

He decided that any further teasing would just be cruel- besides, he, too, was now feeling just as desperate for relief as Jon was. He pushed the full length of his cock into Jon's ass- so far, only Oberyn had had him this way, and both times, Oberyn was slow and gentle. Jon let out a ragged moan- a delicious mix of pleasure and pain. This would be a new experience to Jon, too- he'd never had properly rough sex, Damon realized. 

He grasped Jon by the hair, and began thrusting hard, fast, causing his skin to little clapping noises against Jon as he thrust into him, again and again and again.  
“You're a dirty little slut, aren't you?” asked Damon, grinning wickedly.   
“Yes!” said Jon loudly. This was excellent; Jon LOVED it rough. Damon grasped him by the hair as he thrust in and out of Jon.

Jon tightened the strong muscles of his tight little hole around Damon's shaft, causing Damon to groan. “Oh, Jon” he called out. “Oh, Jon, sweet, innocent Jon, now addicted to cock” he chuckled, and Jon chuckled inbetween his moans along with him. “I'm addicted” Jon agreed. “Really, fucking, ADDICTED!”

Damon thrust harder and harder, loving the moans Jon was making, the moans that made him sound like some common boy-whore. This was what he would miss most about Jon Snow; the way he sounded in bed. Other men and women that Damon had been with had, of course, made their own little noises of appreciation, but Jon sounded like he wanted, needed his cock, more than anything else in the world.

“Damon!” Jon moaned. “Oh, Damon!”. Jon was beginning to thrust back into Damon's cock, causing him to let out more and more gasps and sighs and pants of pleasure.   
Damon took Jon's hard cock into his hand, and began rubbing at it hard and fast, wanting to see Jon cum harder than he'd ever came before.

Jon's climax came just before Damon's, and what a climax it was! His seed came shooting from his cock in massive volumes, landing on Jon's stomach, his chest, even on his shoulders and necks. The combination of the tight clenching of Jon's ass muscles around his shaft, the sight of Jon covered in his own cum, and the shuddering cry that came with Jon's orgasm triggered Damon's own relief.  
“Jon!” he grunted out as he came, lost in the bliss as his manhood throbbed into Jon's ass, shooting sticky, white seed into the hole. He smiled as he collapsed next to Jon, and Jon looked over. There seemed to be the glint of actual TEARS in his eyes. 

“What's wrong?” he asked Jon, giving him a gentle, warm, affectionate kiss.   
“Just- I'll miss you” Jon sighed.   
“You'll still have Oberyn and Ellaria” Damon responded, smiling warmly.  
“I know- but still. I'll... probably never see you again” Jon muttered sadly.  
Damon ran a hand through his hair, and wrapped his arms around Jon. “Don't say that- you don't know. If you don't join the damn night's watch, you might be able to come to Dorne again some time!” he chuckled, and Jon gave the sweetest of smiles. “I'd like that. I'd like it a lot” he said softly.

Damon slept with Jon in his arms for the next few hours, sharing warmth with him. And, later in the day, when Jon, Oberyn, Doran, Arianne and Ellaria waved him goodbye outside of Sunspear, Damon could not help but smirk to himself as he noticed that Jon was now walking with a slight limp- a limp that had not been there the day before.


	7. Role Reversal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oberyn pressed his lips onto Jon's cheek. “Anyone can be seduced, with the right attitude” he whispered into his ear. “Let me show you how. Tonight, you shall be the Prince of Winterfell... And I the innocent bastard boy""
> 
> Jon has grown to become a much stronger lover, though he still lacks the seductive skills to become a truly skilled paramour. Oberyn sets out to fix this with a little 'game'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm very sorry this took a little longer than expected to come out, I've had a rather busy last few days. Still- it's here now, and I hope you all enjoy it!

It was early in the morning, and Jon Snow was training in Sunspear's courtyard when Oberyn approached him.   
“Prince Oberyn” he smiled warmly.   
“Lord Snow” Oberyn greeted in response. He took Jon's hand in his, which sent shivers up his arm and down his spine.   
“Tell me... How long have you been here, now?”

Jon looked to his feet for a while. He'd spent half a year here, now, though the time felt as though it had passed all to quickly.  
“Six months” sighed Jon. Oberyn smiled at that.  
“Six months indeed. In that time, you've... Impressed us all, I must say. You fight well, very well.” Jon grinned at that. The Dornish style of fighting was working far better for him than the Northern style, and a large part of him couldn't wait to see the look on Theon and Robb's faces when he defeated them with complete ease in the courtyard. It was true, Jon's fighting skills had improved markedly.  
“Thank you, my prince” he chuckled. “You're the one who taught me, after all!”

“You've been doing other things a lot better too, you know..”. He glanced at Jon's clothes. “You dress better. You make more interesting conversation. Japes come easier from you, you make people laugh.” All of a sudden, Oberyn pressed his lips on Jon's forehead. Six months ago, Jon would have blushed and spluttered at such an act, but he was past that point now. Still, the contact did make him shudder ever so slightly, and he felt his britches tightening a little. 

Jon chuckled and brushed his lips over Oberyn's, his hand finding its way to his cheek. Oberyn's hand trailed down his body, and rested on his ass cheeks. “And you've been getting a lot better when it comes to bedroom games. Still, being amazing in bed means nothing, if you don't know how to GET people into bed” he laughed, and Jon allowed a small laugh to escape his lips.

“It's not that hard, to get you into bed” Jon smirked teasingly.  
“Yes” admitted Oberyn. “It's not that hard at all. But when you go up North, where everyone is uptight? It is a great shame, that people there are so chaste... But that is the way of things.”  
Jon sighed deeply. It was, sadly, very true. Though he had become far more confident since loosing his virginity, and participating in regular acts of 'bedroom play' with Oberyn and Ellaria, he still was not the most seductive of men.   
“Just the way of the world, I suppose” shrugged Jon. 

Oberyn gave Jon a quick peck on the lips. “Yes, everyone in the North is very chaste and pure and innocent. But, don't forget, so were you. Purity... No-one wants to be pure. They feel they NEED to be pure, and it's their duty to be that way. Don't you remember the shy boy that came here six months ago?” teased Oberyn.

Jon laughed. “Aye, I remember him. Long gone, though.”  
“And why is he gone? Why does he no longer hold to his pure, 'honourable' values?”  
Jon knew well how to answer this. “Because... Because you seduced me” he laughed, a little shyly. He was not ashamed of the way he'd changed; in fact, he was rather proud. He lived a fun life, an enjoyable life, in Dorne. He did not want to think about the North, truth be told, not when he was having such an amazing life of pleasure and luxury here.

“Exactly” grinned Oberyn. He gave Jon's ass a tight squeeze and pulled him closer, so their bodies were pressed against one another's. Jon could feel the Dornish princes erection, pressed up against his own swollen cock through the layers of fabric. He let loose a low moan.

“I seduced you. Pure, innocent, pretty Jon Snow. If I can seduce you, don't you think you can seduce the others in the North? Theon Greyjoy, mayhaps? He sleeps around a lot, surely he would not be too difficult a conquest...”  
“Theon's an ass” laughed Jon.   
“Yes, from what I've heard, that is true. But you want him to fuck you. Is that not true?”  
“No” lied Jon immediately. “I don't... I don't like Theon!”. Though, he had to admit, Greyjoy did have his funny moments. And he would be lying if he said Theon was unattractive, though not nearly as attractive as Robb, or Oberyn, or Damon.

Oberyn squeezed Jon's ass tight, almost painfully, causing Jon to gasp. “Do not lie to me, Snow” he teased.   
Jon sighed. “Alright” he admitted, his cheeks flushing a little red. “Theon... Well... He does get a lot of people into bed. He must be pretty skilled...”  
Oberyn chuckled, loosening his tight grip ever so slightly. “Theon will want to fuck you. He seems the sort to fuck anything that moves... And you... You are more than anything that moves. You could make Theon BEG for you”. 

Jon grinned at that thought. It would be incredibly satisfying, seeing Theon begging him, the bastard whom he'd mocked his whole life, to spread his cheeks for a good, hard fuck.

“And not just Theon, either! Your brother, Robb, maybe?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow. It was at that moment that Jon pulled away, blushing fiercely. 

“I do NOT want to get fucked by my own brother!” Jon shouted, trying his best to sound disgusted. Oberyn gave a teasing laugh.  
“You do. You always talk about, how kind Robb is, or how good-looking Robb is, or, how everyone wants Robb. But it is nothing to be ashamed of” he smirked. “So you want him to kiss you, to pull your hair, to fuck you so hard you can't even walk? And what is so wrong with that? Lust is lust. If I had a brother like yours, I'd probably want to fuck him too” he laughed.

Jon smiled, then giggled, then laughed. Oberyn was not disgusted by his tastes, thank the gods. “Don't tell anyone. Please” he smiled softly.   
“I won't, I won't, don't worry” Oberyn laughed in response.  
“There's... There's no WAY I could get into Robb fucking Stark's bed. He really IS honourable.”  
Oberyn pressed his lips onto Jon's cheek. “Anyone can be seduced, with the right attitude” he whispered into his ear. “Let me show you how. Tonight, you shall be the Prince of Winterfell... And I the innocent bastard boy. Seduce me.”

And with that, Oberyn Martell left, leaving Jon blushing, confused and aroused. Seduce him? How could he... Why... Jon shrugged. He'd have to try and figure it out at some point. By tonight, in fact. It couldn't be too hard, could it? Just act like Oberyn had acted when he first seduced Jon. Jon could do this; he felt confident, ready. But still, a part of his mind was nervous, and it felt almost as though the shy boy from six months ago was back, and trying to take control yet again.

Later that evening, Jon was getting dressed in his room. He was wearing fine red and black silks; a far cry from the drab greys and blacks and browns he used to dress himself up in, though he still paid homage to his origins with a white wolf sigil stitched onto the breast of his red tunic. He'd heard that some bastards took their own personal sigil from changing the colours of their house sigil around a little; and for that reason, Jon had chosen a white direwolf on a crimson red background. He only hoped his father would approve. 

He was just about to make his way to prince Oberyn's chambers when he heard a knock on the door. When he opened it, he was more than a little surprised to see Oberyn Martell standing there, though he looked a lot different. He was drab colours, and carried himself in a shy, awkward manner. “Prince Stark of the North?” he asked in a soft, shy voice, very much reminiscent of the way he'd spoken when he first arrived. “I'm Oberyn Sand. May... May I come in?” he asked, chewing on his lower lip.

Jon nodded and grinned confidently. This... This, he liked. He felt more comfortable about trying to seduce, when he was the powerful one.   
“Come in, Lord Sand” he said softly. “I am pleased to meet you” he said with a smirk. 

Oberyn sat on the edge of the bed, looking shyly at his feet. Jon could tell it was all an act, a mummer's game, but damn was he a good actor. “Would you like some wine, Sand?” asked Jon, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes... Yes please, M'lor- prince Stark.”  
As Jon poured out two glasses of wine, he casually glanced at Oberyn Mart- Oberyn SAND, over his shoulder. “You can just call me Jon, you know. Makes things a lot easier when we're not hiding behind all these titles” he laughed, and Oberyn laughed along. “Th-th-thank you, Pri- Jon. Thank you, Jon” smiled Oberyn, as Jon handed him a glass of wine and sat besides him on the bed, taking a long sip of his own wine.

“So tell me, Oberyn” Jon said gentle, regarding the Dornish prince- No, the Dornish bastard, with intrigued eyes. “About you. Your family.”

And, for a long time, they talked. Oberyn made up a story about how he was an innocent young bastard of House Martell, and Jon made up one about how he was the prince of Winterfell.   
They talked of food, of wine, of fighting and horse-riding and hunting.   
Jon found flirting came to him a lot more naturally than he had previously expected; he laughed along as Oberyn 'Sand' tried to tell jokes, payed him the odd offhand compliment, and 'accidentally' touched his hands or wrists or thighs a couple of times.

Eventually, the talk came to talk about girls and boys and past lovers. Oberyn Martell was a legendary lover, but Oberyn 'Sand' was a shy, innocent virgin, silently begging to be taught the ways of lovemaking.   
Jon eventually rested a hand firmly on Oberyn's thigh. Oberyn pretended to be shy and nervous and awkward, though aroused and curious at the same time.   
Jon, too, felt nervous, though he did very well to hide it. He'd been working up to this moment all night, the moment when he finished his seduction of the bastard boy. He reminded himself that, in this room, he was the prince of Winterfell, the handsome, infamous prince of Winterfell. 

“You know, Lord Oberyn... You are a good man” Jon smiled softly, slowly rubbing his thigh. “I am... Surprised, so to speak, that a man such as yourself would not have elicited any interest from boys or girls...” he smirked. “Why do you think that is?”.  
Oberyn took a deep drink of wine. “Well... I... My brother is the handsome one. The one everyone wants.”

“Can I tell you something?” Jon asked. “I'd have you over your brother any day. You are... A little innocent, perhaps” he chuckled. “But nice. You have a lot of potential in you, you know that?”

Oberyn looked at his feet. Jon did not know how Oberyn was so believable, but he most certainly was brilliant at playing the innocent, pure man.

“Do you want to know about my first time with another man?” Jon asked, leaning closer to Oberyn 'Sand'. Sand nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, Prince Jon.”

“He was a Dornish prince” Jon purred. “Very much like you. Handsome, clever, funny... He even might have had the same name as you. I was like you at the time... Shy, awkward, did not know how to speak to anyone... But he changed that. He taught me a lot. Have- Have you never thought about it? Bedding another man?”.

Oberyn, in his false shy voice, piped up with “Well, M'Lord, I suppose now you mentio-”   
Jon quietened Oberyn with a long, deep, hard, passionate kiss, running his hand through the Dornish bastards thick, dark hair. Oberyn, once again, prentended to be nervous and yet excited, raising his hand to rest softly on Jon's hip, forcing his hand to tremble ever so slightly. 

Jon responded to this by deepening the kiss, running a hand slowly down Oberyn's body, and fumbling at his britches. “Is this what you want?” Jon asked breathlessly between kisses, as his hand rested at Oberyn's waistline. “Yes” gasped Oberyn. “Yes” he begged. Jon's hand swiftly snaked it's way into Oberyn's britches, and took a firm hold of his now hardened manhood, which he began rubbing very slowly up and down. Oberyn gasped and squirmed, which Jon took great pleasure in watching. Jon pulled Oberyn's tunic up over his head, followed by his own tunic, followed then by Oberyn's britches and smallclothes, leaving Oberyn exposed and naked on the bed before him.

Jon bit down softly on the bastard's neck, causing a beautifully delicate moan to escape Oberyn Sand's lips. He slid his britches and smallclothes halfway down his hips, causing his hardened manhood to spring free. He grasped some oil from his bedside cabinet; since the night with Damon, Jon had made sure to keep a good supply of oil in his room. He covered his cock in the thick, cool substance and worked it in slowly with one hand before positioning his cock just below Oberyn's balls. 

It was in this moment that Jon realized- In all his months here, Oberyn had fucked him many times, but he had never yet fucked Oberyn. This fact should have made him nervous, and yet, as he began to slowly easy his cock into Oberyn's asshole, he felt perfectly natural. After all, he was the prince of Winterfell, in this night, and Oberyn was the bastard. 

As Jon made slow thrusts, Oberyn wrapped his legs around Jon's waist, holding him tightly in place as Jon made sweet, slow, passionate love to the bastard. “Jon..” he gasped out, and Jon responded by kissing Oberyn's lips, taking his lower lip briefly between his teeth as he pulled away.

The feeling of Oberyn's ass clenched tight around Jon's cock felt incredible; It was true, as things stood, that Jon preffered the feeling of getting fucked to actually fucking, but there was no denying that the power of being the one in control was arousing. He let out low shudders and grunts and gasps as he thrusted, in and out, his hand running through thick black hair, his free hand finding the pot of oil and drizzling it over Oberyn's manhood, then beginning to slowly work the oil in with the hand. 

As Jon's thrusts sped up, so did the speed of his hand on Oberyn's manhood. Oberyn was moaning and gasping and whimpering out “Jon” shamelessly now, and Jon felt himself getting closer and closer to release. 

When Oberyn reached a climax, spurting out warm cum all over his waist and Jon's hand, Jon gasped as Oberyn's ass began contracting in perfect tune with the pulsating of his cock, and very quickly, Jon came with a loud moan.

As Jon collapsed back into his bed, Oberyn wrapped his arms softly around him, kissing his lips, his neck, his face. 

“Now do you see?” Oberyn asked, and in that moment, he became the prince of Dorne again, and not the innocent bastard boy that Jon had just fucked. “Seduction is not hard.”

“You're good” laughed Jon. “Good at pretending to be me” he smirked.  
Oberyn nodded in agreement. “It was fun. And now you know how easy the art is.”  
Jon smiled warmly at Oberyn. He was right. And Jon felt a huge rush of excitement through his heart as he realized something; of course, he was still a bastard, but he felt just as confident as the 'Prince of Winterfell' who he'd just pretended to be. It gave him hope; hope that returning North would not mean an end to this life of passion and hedonistic pleasures that he had come to know and love whilst staying in Dorne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Jon topping wasn't too OOC. I know, Oberyn is a wonderful topper and Jon works best as a bottom, but just for this chapter I felt it necessary for a little bit of switching.


End file.
